Your Love Alone Is Not Enough - Richard Froude

Praise for Your Love Alone Is Not Enough

Enter this story as if entering a dream. In this wilderness disguised as shitty motel rooms and waiting rooms, you will awake into a deeper state of dreaming by unexpected saints as they dazzle in fields of ruination. In this dream, time ignores the tyranny of sequence so that anything might be possible: mingling with the dead, meeting our past and future selves, and all while being multiple. The tenderness of acute details with their tremendous love and grief buzz throughout Richard Froude’s Your Love Alone Is Not Enough.

~ SELAH SATERSTROM

The most interesting novelist work being done today is being done in the wreckage of the novel as a genre, as Froude’s Your Love Alone Is Not Enough demonstrates. Re-envisioning Richey Edwards as Buratino—who is himself a re-envisioning of Pinnochio—Froude slips between both identities and genres, looking for the sweet spot where something new can resonate. This is genuinely hybrid work in a way that very few things that claim to be hybrid actually are.

~ BRIAN EVENSON

There are sentences in this book that made me gasp out loud when I read them. Things of wisdom and beauty and sadness and strangeness and sorrow and longing. I think this is a book about loss and grief and dead people and forgotten ones, about hospital visits and the body, and who is your family and what happens to people you love and loved, but mostly love. Along the way it’s also about grody motel rooms and that weird kind of flat urban landscape and memory, and God with a big G and a little one, and if there’s a burning bush, where is it and what do we say to it. This writing is stunning, beautifully dark but also thank God light. I’m glad it is in the world.

~ REBECCA BROWN

Your Love Alone Is Not Enough is a requiem for people who never had enough time and for places that never had enough light: it maps out desolations, makes cartography of remnants, and, in its most sublime moments, pushes all the ugly, all the abject, all the lonely together into one all encompassing portrait of contemporary trying. A luminous and debilitating work.

~ RENEE GLADMAN